Going Gray Was Supposed to Be Easy

Aging isn’t one big acceptance moment.

It’s a thousand tiny negotiations with yourself.

Mine started with gray hair.

I always imagined I’d be the kind of woman who would gracefully let it happen...turns out, accepting yourself is much easier in your twenties, when there’s nothing asking to be accepted.

My teenage son accidentally exposed all of this with one simple question. “Mom, what do you notice first about people?”

I should have thought longer, but I blurted out, “hair.” Because he then started looking at my hair and his, and even glanced at the dog.

I went on to explain that no hair can be just as striking, and quoted my own mom: “Work with what you’ve got.”

Yes, this is true, but always easier when the person saying it has great hair. Like my mom, her hair literally could stop traffic.

It was strawberry blond and thick, with the perfect amount of curl to give it volume and a permanent Farrah Fawcett aura. When she turned 45, the gray did start to creep in; it didn’t dilute her; it highlighted her. It was one single streak of a white-gray that framed her face (very Bonnie Raitt). It was like a white flag in a sea of red, rebellious, not aging.

Later on, her red started to soften, the gray deepened, and then it became a white volcanic-ash color, and even though she was only 5’2, I could spot her little Q-tip™, bobbing around. A tiny white cloud floating and dancing usually through the chaos. People stopped her and complimented her everywhere we went.

My hair was an education in itself. It was straight and golden brown until 5^th grade. I begged for a perm because I knew I could sing like the teens on the teeny boop magazines; now I wanted to look like them too. But then I decided I liked it straight.

It never went back. Reality did not mesh with my dreams. Puberty stormed in, made me curly and frizzy, and my negotiations with my hair felt futile. Further, whatever I wanted to do. I was often told no. Bangs, no. Cut them myself. Dye my hair? No. I used Sun In™, and it turned orange. So, I made whatever I had to “work with” not workable.

At one point, I ironed my hair with a household iron. 0/1,000,000 recommend that. I still have a small burn on my neck.

Most of my life, my hair has been in a ponytail because I felt like I needed to control it. In high school, I dyed it fiery red and many other colors, then tried to return it to my original brown. I was not successful, and the over-the-counter box dyes fried it in the process.

So I cut it all off around age 21 after training for an ironman. 16 inches lay at my feet. I left two inches. My roots. It was a cute pixie-flower-girl look that I loved at first. The boys my age I became invisible to. I became self-conscious and started to grow it out. Painfully, awkwardly, and for many years, it was my color and in a ponytail. I did not want to go through that again…

As I was growing it out, I realized how much my hair defined me. One day, I asked my sister what she looked for in a partner. She said she loved when a guy had really great hair. I waited for more… but we were young.

But in my head, the list never included hair; it included things like being hard-working, making a good dad, and having a sense of humor.

Enter my husband.

Blue eyes the color of Egyptian sapphires. A smile that lit them up from underneath, and yes, hair that was already leaving the party.

Before our wedding, I warned him, “Your scalp will show in the photos; you will hate it. Consider buzzing…” Spoiler: he did not. He hated the photos.

Yes, he started buzzing it soon after, and honestly? It looks great. But he still worries, even as I point out all the other incredibly sexy bald men. Not helping… got it.

I get it now.

My hair is thinning, the gray strands are staging their own uprising, and yes, I went back to dying it.

Because my acceptance is a journey, not a light switch I can suddenly turn on. It also serves as my timeline. Every curl, streak, cut reflects a chapter in my life. I watched my parents’ hair once command attention the way my son’s does. So needless to say, he was fine with my response.

Hair is a window to the soul, or at least a glimpse into the stories we tell ourselves about who we are. There are those that barely think about it, and others that treat it like a masterpiece, Aqua Net™ and all. My husband may worry about being bald, and I may have an itchy scalp from wearing it up all the time.

Our story is told in strands.

To this day, if I ask him what to wear to an event or on a date, he says, without fail, “Your hair down.”

Classic.

I make fake ads for real problems. And my salon bills had become one.

Obviously, I love gray. I named my kid that, but we spell it Grey.

But naming a person Grey and embracing the gray on my own head are apparently two very different emotional experiences. I’m not here to tell anyone what to do with their hair or their body. Dye it. Don’t dye it. Shave it. Embrace it. Your body, your choice.

But when I tried to go gray, I didn't like it, and I wanted to. I pictured my mom’s journey and that mine would be similar.

Instead, my gray showed up at my temples and shot straight out as though I had stuck my hand in a socket.

So I started plucking it out, and I don't recommend it. Aging already takes enough hair. The funny thing is, I didn’t realize how much it bothered me until it did, as I was staring in the mirror and lifting up my hair from every angle.

And then I did what many of us do: I judged myself for caring.

Why do I care about this?

Why does this bother me?

Why can’t I just accept it?

The thing is, when you are young, you swear you will just accept growing older, but that lasts until- you get older. Aging isn’t one big acceptance moment. It’s a thousand tiny moments and often negotiations with oneself. There are some we embrace immediately- as I can’t run with my knees- cool, cool, cool. And some things make us stare back and whisper, “Nope. Absolutely not.”

Going gray was messy. I want to make it easier for others. Just like my publication promises, I want to Protect Your Buzz.

This is what I tried, what worked, what failed, what cost way too much money, and what finally helped me find something sustainable, and all the links below. I started this article over a year ago.

Reminder: this month I am doing one article per week. (The kid is home, and it is chaos- I will resume my normal schedule next month). Please consider becoming a free or paid subscriber; this is my livelihood.

Option 1: Balayage

Balayage was my first solution, and I loved it because it looked sun-kissed, and at first, I only needed it every 3/4 months. Soon, though, it was not low maintenance. It was just spaced-out enough that I could handle it. The other upside was it kept most of my real color and especially around my face-it didn't wash me out.

But over time, the root problem showed up. Balayage doesn’t really address the temples where my gray was staging its rebellion. So it stopped being enough.

I spent $350 (plus tip), and within two weeks my gray was back.

I switched to highlights because they go all the way to my roots and would therefore cover more of my gray. At first it worked.

But then not for a few reasons:

• The bleach was killing my curls.

• I couldn’t manage spending that long in a salon that often.

• The cost was too much; it ranged from $200-350 (plus tip) for full or half (and that is not even the high end).

• It started to wash me out. My skin is normally glowing; it looked dull. I even tried switching stylists, but that was not the issue.

Then Instagram noticed too because that is the world we live in.

I would open up my feed, and I no longer saw my friends’ kids and all the new school pictures; I was being served a new algorithm of boxed dyes, glosses, miracle shampoos, and “salon results at home.” I was standing in front of a charcuterie board of too many options, and I just wanted a simple cheddar for a good price.

Every time I wanted one option, three more appeared in my own head whispering: “You’re doing this wrong, and who says that’s better...”

I was one shampoo or hair treatment away from believing I could become a different person in 12 minutes or with one miracle product.

I felt stuck, broke, and worried no matter what; I did not want to spend a ton and dislike the outcome.

The universe was listening; the next afternoon, I pulled into my driveway and saw my neighbor walking her dog. She stopped to say hi. I stopped because she looked amazing; her hair was a beautiful golden-brown hue.

Once I calmed down, she told me she had gone through the same cycle I had: balayage, highlights, frustration, and eventually returned to her natural color with a simplified maintenance routine.

It wasn’t zero maintenance, but it was way easier. Just one color and root touch-ups.

As she said, I felt hopeful I was onto something. She worked with a color specialist who helped her find a shade she could actually maintain at home. She had chosen not to, but she said anyone could.

I sent a note to the stylist explaining what my goal was- I wanted something I could eventually maintain myself, and I needed help with the transition.

Next, I went online. ChatGPT was fun to start, so I could see what I thought might look good. I could upload photos, and even ask for shade ranges; then it offered to break down tones. It showed me browns, explained what would flatter me, and helped me narrow down what I actually wanted.

Honestly, I was impressed by how much was available online. The next day, the stylist texted and said she was excited that I had done so much prep, and asked for the photos. She suggested going medium rather than too dark, so it would fade naturally and be easier to maintain at home.

So I asked her which brand she recommends for at-home use, and she suggested a couple; one was Madison Reed, which I had seen online as an option worth looking into. It does not have the same harsh chemicals. I left the salon with the exact color to order. The salon color faded faster than expected, and I had to re-dye it after only 4 weeks. This is common when switching shades, so all the more reason to switch it at home (way cheaper).

A little behind-the-scenes: I actually wrote this piece over the course of more than a year. The story came first—I never wrote it around a product or a brand.

Then I started using Madison Reed and fell in love with it, so I reached out and told them I was writing about my experience. I wasn’t looking for a partnership (though I did mention a discount would be nice!), and they offered me an affiliate relationship. So, for transparency, I earn a small commission if you shop through my links.

But the partnership came after the love—not the other way around. I loved the product first; the partnership came later.

And that’s all I’ll say about it. I want this space to stay focused on the writing.

I know this sounds dramatic, but dying my own hair has been extremely freeing. It also freed up my budget for other areas.

It was way easier than I convinced myself it would be. Like I may have convinced myself I would screw up before I started. I did not. I like it better than anyone else did. Guess why? I care more.

I found the tone too warm and adjusted it. I found I needed to move to the opposite end of the spectrum and pick an ashy brown to even out my tone.

The great thing about doing it at home, though, was that it was affordable to make these small tweaks. It was also very even. You can estimate the time between dyes based on what you did at the salon.

Biggest Trick: I learned that for my hair and this particular color, letting the color process longer than about 20 minutes made the result too saturated (think Peg on Married with Children).

Now that I'm doing the same color each time, I usually process my roots for about 20 minutes, then pull the color through my ends for another 10–15 minutes, depending on how faded they are. (But you can always follow the processing instructions for your specific Madison Reed color rather than copying my timing exactly.)

I also have long hair, so I use the extra-tube options instead of two packages of dye, which saves me about $20 each time. I also love their hair mask without color, which restores my hair's softness right after dyeing.

If you are interested, the products I use are below, with links to them (prices vary by promotion, subscription, and quantity).

• Dye: Arezzo Light Brown - 7NA

• Sealer: I use this to elongate my color

• Mask: I use this a few times a week as my regular conditioner. I have very dry hair, and this makes it feel brand new. I also use it the day I dye my hair after the sealer. Again, cost shifts depending on whether you sign up for monthly or one-time.

• Starter Kit: often free when you sign up. It is a 12-piece hair color tool kit that includes everything for professional at-home application: mixing bowl, brush, comb, sectioning clips, protective cape, and more.

• Root touch-up: This is not as needed unless you go gray quickly

  *The color I use is not reviewed as well as some others, probably because it is darker than the picture looks; however, it is what I wanted, so no complaints here.

  Want to shop Madison Reed?

  I put together a full Madison Reed collection on ShopMy, including the products I use plus other Madison Reed hair color and hair-care options. If you’re curious about the brand but my exact color isn’t right for you, start there, and this will also bring you to their store, too.

Promotions change, but there are always new offers, just today I found...

• If you sign up for their products each month, you save 15% and get free shipping

• Right now they are offering a FREE Gift: Tortoise Detangling Comb ($15 value).

• Premier Member: $5 reward on every $200 spent

• On their site, the tag symbol is in the top right, right by the Account tab. Click there for current promotions.

  *And you can always pause or cancel online anytime. I looked into how easy this is, as I would be writing about them. Easier than any other online store out there. So you can always sign up (subscribe and save) and cancel if it's not your thang.

Biggest Takeaways

• Color specialists cost more upfront, but often save time, reduce damage, and save money in the long term. It takes out the guesswork. It is not necessary, though. I transitioned from a light blond in much of my hair to a medium brown, so I decided to get help. Looking back, I now know I was just being overly cautious. Many states have color bars run by Madison Reed; they can do this for you. Minnesota (where I live) does not.

• The real decision isn’t the salon color; it’s the maintenance you actually want to live with.

• You can’t change your hair color dramatically in one stage and expect amazing results- think slow change.

• I can now maintain my color at home, and it feels like something I chose, not something I’m fighting.

• If you have questions, ask. I am not an expert, but I've helped many women dye their hair at home and save hundreds every month.

  My hair has been a timeline of my life. From 80s perms to gray roots, every version carried a story.

  My life is a timeline of hairdos, and going gray was no exception. I thought it would be about accepting my age, but it was really about finding how to feel comfortable with my own reflection.

  I can dye it, grow it out, chop it all off, and change my mind any day. I can spend $50 or over $350.

  Maybe acceptance isn’t saying yes to everything and trying whatever Instagram tells me. Maybe it’s knowing I get to choose.

  

  Thanks for reading Stories to Protect Your Buzz! This post is public, so feel free to share it.

  Share

  Share Stories to Protect Your Buzz